Dear Physical Body (especially my overenthusiastic immune system),
I know that the weather's changing from summer to fall. It's crisp and cold outside and we've had to put the heater on. The ouchies in my joints usually grow worse during these transitional months. I was expecting that after five years, so it's not a surprise. I've got the Icy-Hot, Advil and methotrexate all lined up.
But please, do you mind sparing my hands these days? I can't write or draw without them, and if I can't do either, I will absolutely, positively go insane.
All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010